


His Fallen Kingdom

by painty



Category: Lost
Genre: Angst, Angst galore for all you angsties, Ben is also an amazing character, Crying, Depression, Father/daughter confusion, Grief, Lost - Freeform, Lost is a great show, Lost show, M/M, Nightmares, Oneshot, Sadness, Sometime after season 4, are these even tags anymore, breakdown - Freeform, i really love writing angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-26
Updated: 2017-07-26
Packaged: 2018-12-07 05:07:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11616519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/painty/pseuds/painty
Summary: Ben has some unresolved grief dealing with his daughter Alex. Locke is there to help, no matter how much Benjamin hates him.





	His Fallen Kingdom

**Author's Note:**

> This is a little one-shot I did while I was in an angsty mood. Ben Linus angst concerning his dead daughter, Alex. Locke comes to the rescue c:

SPOILER ALERT FOR LOST  
like, major spoiler alert  
DO NOT READ IF YOU HAVEN'T FINISHED LOST SEASONS THREE-FOUR  
a few major events are mentioned + Ben angst

 

blurb /  ben has always been good at masking his feelings from others, especially how he looks back on his daughter alex's death. but john locke is special in his own mysterious ways, and gives ben a valuable lesson when he notices the others' leader's behavior.

Ben was holding Alex's hand. She smiled up at him with that beautiful smile that lit through his whole body. His soul lifted; he felt so much happier, connected to his daughter even if they didn't exactly have the best relationship. He grinned back and wrapped his arms around her, holding her close. She rested her head on his chest and breathed out softly, listening to his calming heartbeat.

Everything around was serene. He didn't exactly know where he was; a white room of some sort. They were sitting on a soft bed, curtains open to allow light to filter through the nearby open window. A breeze shot through and ruffled Alex's hair. He let himself breathe and rested his chin on his daughter's head, just happy to embrace her at this time.

Suddenly, she pulled back. Her eyes were pools of sudden doubt, a distressed look crossing her features. Ben couldn't help but notice this and frowned deeply. "What's wrong, Alex?"

She hesitated, biting her tongue for a few seconds before she had the courage to respond. Her voice was low and hoarse, like she had gravel stuck in her throat. "Daddy . . . why'd you let me die?"

Ben's jaw dropped in shock. His heart sped up, sweat slipping down his face. "Wh-What? You're here with me now, honey— you're safe."

"You killed me." Her voice was suddenly dripping with as much venom as a viper's. She clenched her fists and dug her nails into his arms.

He flinched back but still held onto Alex, afraid that he would lose her if he let go. "A-Alex, no, no—"

"You're a monster!" She jumped to her feet and slammed him backward with the force of a polar bear ramming its body against a cage in the Dharma camp. He gasped in shock and hurt spiraled through his body like lightning bolts.

"I wish you would have never stolen me as a baby!"

Ben's eyes snapped open and he was suddenly staring at the open blue sky above his head. Trees were nestled beside him, leaves drifting off and surrounding the makeshift camp. He groaned and immediately remembered the dream about Alex, a wave of sadness slamming him right through the heart. "I'm sorry." He couldn't stop the words that left his mouth. His voice broke; his eyes were far off. The guilt of it all crashed right into him and he wished for nothing more than to have taken Alex's place and been shot instead of her. His precious daughter hadn't deserved it.

"Sorry for what?"

The voice caught Ben off guard. He snapped his head to the side and caught none other than the infamous John Locke stepping into camp, dragging a fairly plump hog behind him. His eyes held curiosity as he glanced at Ben, cocking a brow. Ben realized he hadn't responded yet, curling his toes in.

"Nothing." He cleared his throat and staggered to his feet, feeling hollow in his chest. He felt completely numb now, actually. The dream slipped his mind. All he could replay was the memory of Alex . . . No. He needed to stop thinking of that. He'd done all he needed to do, all he could've done. Why was there any reason to dwell over the memory?

Locke mused for a few moments and set himself on one of the logs around the burned out fire, staring into the embers as if they'd magically give him some insight into Ben's life and feelings. Ben nearly scoffed at the thought. It wouldn't be very surprising, knowing John.

His next words made Ben snort in disgust. "It was a tragedy what happened to Alex. We're all grieving over her death."

"You didn't even know her," he snapped, his mask slipping. Ben realized his mistake and straightened up, his face going once again blank. He shrugged. "But whatever. Apparently we bow down to you now."

Locke tipped his head, studying Ben as if he were an experiment monkey. The Others' leader couldn't help but shiver at how his eyes held what looked like galaxies. Envy ran deep in his heart at the knowledge that John was probably much more special than him. It made Ben furious.

However, Ben was good at hiding his feelings. He could easily throw off Locke with another topic. "Where's Hugo?" he questioned, eyes flickering around the rainforest. 

Locke stood up, stretching his back a bit before staring Ben up and down. "I wasn't aware you cared so much."

He held himself back from punching John in the face. "Just wondering."

"Or steering the conversation away from your nightmares."

That sent chills down Ben's spine. How did Locke know he'd been having nightmares about Alex? Did he talk in his sleep? Or was he just that obvious? Ben really needed to step up his game; he couldn't appear weak. Not in their current circumstances. But he didn't know what to say, not to Locke. He felt like he was having his first conversation with Jacob (which would be never, apparently, since John was ultimately destined to be special). So Ben said the only thing that really came to mind. "How do you know?"

John smiled, an amused smile, but one that held much more than just the average grin. Ben couldn't explain it and frankly didn't want to. Locke could throw himself off a cliff for all he cared. "I just know."

Okay, maybe Ben would actually be the one to throw Locke off a cliff. How was he expected to stay calm with such a nuisance? "Did the island tell you that?" he retorted. "Since you're apparently all-seeing and all-knowing now?"

John furrowed his brows a bit, eerily quiet for a long moment. Okay, Ben would throw himself off a cliff. That was better. "It's not hard to tell, Ben. Losing a daughter isn't easy."

"I wouldn't expect you to know." Ben turned away, not wanting to meet the bald man's eyes. He hated looking into them. 

"I didn't say I did. But we all feel compassion for you," John finished, tilting his chin up.

Ben chuckled, his eyes darkening. "Really? I find that hard to believe, after everything I've put your group through."

Locke paused. "They'll come around to forgiving you."

"And I suppose you speak for all of them."

"For now, yes. I know them better than you do." Was that a challenge? Ben could certainly out-backstory Locke. He knew every detail of Jack's life, Kate's life, Sawyer's life, Sun's life— the list went on. John knew nothing, and acting like he was better than Ben, higher than Ben, really ticked him off. He should've killed John off long ago in that pit of Dharma worker bodies. Then this conversation wouldn't be happening and Ben would be fine. Well, not fine— but alone to his thoughts. That's all he wanted.

"Why? Because you lived on the beach with them for a few months?" Ben scowled. "Take your hippie shit somewhere else, John. I don't want to listen to it."

Locke seemed taken aback by the leader's sudden outburst. Ben just couldn't hold back anymore. The anger of everything crashed down onto him and he was taking it out on the person he wanted so badly to stab a knife through. "Anger is a stage of grief, Ben. It's okay to be emotional."

"I'm fine." Ben's voice was cold and littered with chips of ice. "You don't know anything about me. I know everything about you. So leave me the fuck alone."

"Really, now?" Locke raised a brow. "Just because you read a file on my history doesn't mean you know me. I can see right through your mask, Ben; I'm not like the others. You truly don't know anything about me."

Ben took a hesitant step back, not wanting to admit defeat. He could get himself out of this mess. He could! He would not surrender to a man like John. "You haven't an ounce of knowledge of what I'm feeling," he hissed, then decided to turn the tables. "But I do know what you're feeling. You're feeling guilty over Charlie's death. You're feeling like shit because you can't help Jack lead your stupid beach group. You feel terrible because you're just a stupid old man on a stupid old island THAT REALLY SHOULD JUST FUCKING SINK BECAUSE NO ONE GIVES A FUCK ABOUT THIS PLACE ANYMORE. You act like you're all high and mighty, but really you're crumbling, because you know if you go back home with the others then you'll lose your ability to walk. You'll lose your precious title of being special. HOW ABOUT YOU KILL YOURSELF ALREADY. But oh, wait, I can already see that happening because if Jack and the others do get off the island, you'll be stuck fetching them and then blasting a bullet through your brain because everyone'll think, 'Oh, hey, there's that old man that spewed his shit about fate. Let's not listen to him because he's just as useless as a pile of trash.' So you wanted your truth, John? There's your truth, you fucking BASTARD!"

Ben had never heard such vile words fly out of his mouth. Even his father had never said anything like that to him. But this? This was anger stored deep in Ben's heart; so deep and unfurling that he lashed out at Locke because he was the only human willing to take it without beating the shit out of Ben.

Ben wasn't sure whether he respected that or feared that.

Locke, on the other hand, didn't even seem affected by his words. Ben's jaw dropped and his eyes widened, stumbling back as he realized what had just happened. "Y-You . . . You manipulated me! Y . . . You . . ." He didn't even have words. Locke held a triumphant smile but the anger wasn't there anymore. Ben didn't know what to feel anymore.

"What goes around comes around," John murmured ominously, stepping closer to Ben. The man froze and felt his heart beat faster, clenching his fists.

He would never admit defeat, no matter what John said.

"I'm sorry for doing that to you, Ben." Locke's words never ceased to surprise the Others' leader. "But that's a lesson for you. Bottling up your feelings— wherever all of that came out about wanting the island to sink and your sudden hatred against me— (which wasn't exactly sudden) isn't healthy for you. Like I've said many times in the past, you can trust me, Ben. This emotional pain you're storing is killing you."

Ben broke. He felt like crumpling to the ground and crying forever, dwelling over every mistake he'd made, every horrible thing he'd done. Oh, if only he could keep track: being born, making his father's life miserable, killing his father, helping murder all of the Dharma workers, joining the Others, stealing Alex as a baby from a crazy woman, exiling Charles Widmore, killing Goodwin and several other innocent people, stealing Walt, manipulating Michael, and worst of all . . . killing Alex.

Tears began to stream down his cheeks. Ben fell to his knees, burying his face in his hands as heavy sobs racked his body. He wanted to die. He wanted to die so badly. The embarrassment wasn't nearly as bad as he'd imagined. Crying in front of Locke— crying in front of anybody— was his worst nightmare and fear. But now he was a spilled bottle, his emotions all over the place and ruining everything. But that's all Ben was, after all. After he spilled he'd be as disposable as an empty coke can.

Suddenly, a pair of arms wrapped around Ben. The man tensed and flinched back, but eventually rested into Locke's arms. John didn't say anything, he just held him, and that's all that mattered to Ben. He felt something in his heart he rarely felt. Something so new— so opposing to the hatred he felt for John being special— that he wished he could take it back and take back everything horrible he'd ever said.

Ben felt love. The love of someone who cared for you, the love of someone who was loyal to you, the love of someone who simply waned to be your friend... just to be your friend.

That made him cry even more. But Locke didn't mind, not at all. He just held Ben until his tears were gone and there was nothing left to cry out. The brown-haired man wasn't even sure how long it had been. He slowly pulled himself away from Locke and shifted his bloodshot eyes away, blinking out a few stray tears before pulling himself together.

John said nothing. He stood back to his feet, nodded at Ben and turned back to the hog. "Want to help me cook this before Hugo returns?"

The leader nodded and walked over near John, staring down at the pig. For once, Ben didn't feel envy. He didn't feel resentment. He didn't feel grief or sadness.

All he felt was love.


End file.
